


What the hell, we're on the way. There is no nothing better.

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [149]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Deaf Character, Films, Friendship/Love, Getting to Know Each Other, HYDRA Husbands, Hockey, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Mutual Pining, Questions, Scars, Sign Language, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: To Brock, Jack Rollins is still the new guy.  He doesn't know much about him, since he tends to keep to himself mostly or with a couple of others in his friend circle, but considering he's on their college hockey team and Brock's the captain, he should.  It takes some time but it happens.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [149]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	What the hell, we're on the way. There is no nothing better.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).



> 💙
> 
> Jack is not completely deaf in this, he's HOH.

Brock listened to Steve talking about a play he wanted to try with him, one that would evidently be helpful during power plays while the rest of the team practiced to the side. While they gave it a go, using Clint and Bucky as decoys, Brock skated around them headed for the net that Tony had left open when he’d left to grab some water. Jack was there though, his back turned to most of the rink and scored on him. And while Brock pretending it was the hardest shot he’d ever have to make, Jack didn’t even react to the buzzer going off above him.

Steve frowned. “Jack, maybe block it next time? That’s kind of your job too.”

Jack didn’t turn around, didn’t react at all, staring ahead blankly, clearly lost in his own head.

“He’s not wearing his hearing aids.” Bucky pointed out, lowering his stick.

_ Hearing aids? _ Brock thought, squinting at Jack. Jack finally felt eyes on him and turned his head to him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Jack said, the words barely loud enough.

Bucky sighed, waving his hand at Jack to get his attention. Jack finally turned his body, leaning back against the goal post rail, and looked over at Bucky who started to sign to him.

Jack shook his head at Steve suddenly, signing something to Bucky  _ and _ Clint before pointedly eyeing Rogers again. “Break.”

“He didn’t want to deal with your bitching tonight apparently.” Bucky said to Steve, delighted over being able to be the messenger though Brock was pretty sure he remembered something about Steve knowing ASL as well. 

Jack only smiled as Tony approached with one of their team water bottles, passing it over to Jack. “I told him to keep my seat warm, not play. We all know none of you can catch a puck if your life depended on it.”

“He’s deaf?” Brock asked, still lost at that reveal and Clint didn’t hide the way he rolled his eyes at him. 

“Jesus, Brock. Jack’s been here for almost a _month_ , are you serious?”

Bucky ignored his friend and nodded. “Legally deaf, yeah.”

“But he was..he’s said stuff- ” Brock fumbled as he felt his face warm. “He was jus speakin’!”

“Ableism is toxic, Brock. Stop being toxic, the team doesn’t condone that type of behavior, especially from our beloved captain.” Bucky teased, smirking at him. “Maybe he’ll tell you about it over some coffee.” Brock didn't miss the wink Barnes gave Jack before he turned his attention to Steve. “So, should we call it a day then?” 

Steve sighed, throwing up his hands with a shake of his head. “Yeah sure.” 

Brock looked at Jack, squinting at the guy while Clint was talking to him in a frenzy of hand signs. He hadn’t meant to be rude about it, he just didn’t realize. As far as he was aware, Clint was the only deaf guy on the team, aside from Steve’s partial hearing loss but that was so well-adjusted, he never told anyone about it because he seemed to be doing just fine.

It was still in his head while inside their changing room and after his shower. He sighed, peering into his locker to toss his shampoo back inside. Sitting down to get his socks and shoes on, Jack dropped down a few feet away from him on the same bench and Brock watched him putting his hearing aids in. They were bulky looking, like Clint’s but while those were purple, these were brown and after Jack’s hair fell back into place Brock didn’t see them anymore.

“Oh. Shit.” Jack tilted his head to look at him in confusion. “Ya didn’t tell me you were deaf.” Brock scrambled to explain. “M’sorry if I said somethin’ screwed up.” 

Jack blinked at him. “Did you not see me wearing them?”

Opening his mouth before giving up and just snapping it shut, Brock wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete dick. 

*****

“My Bauer’s fuckin’ gonna to break any second, I’m tellin’ ya. I dunno when I can replace it with the goddamn car repairs I need to get done.”

“Brock, come on! Whine about your stick later, right now I need suggestions on where to take Nat for some fancy dinner thing, she deserves it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he peeled off his pads. “Only because you flaked out on her last time.”

“I fell asleep, I never meant to ‘flake’ on her!” Clint defended.

“She’s got the patience of a saint, Clint.” Bucky continued. “I woulda left your ass already.”

“I need a shower, jus take ‘er to a seafood steakhouse thing, it’ll be fine.” Brock grumped, staring longingly at his battered hockey stick before finally getting to his feet.

“You’re no help, Rumlow!” 

“That’s the point.” Brock called over his shoulder as he finished stripping to get in the shower, shaking his head before he stepped under spray and let every thought leave his head for at least the next ten minutes.

When he got out, most of the team had cleared and were probably hanging out in the parking lot choosing where to eat. He changed into some sweats and fixed his hair, dropping down on the bench to get on some socks and slip his feet into shoes.

“Here.” Jack said, breaking into his thoughts and thrusting a hockey stick practically in Brock’s face when he looked up from his feet.

“The ‘ell’s that?” He uttered but he took the stick, an instant familiarity to it and his eyes briefly passed over to his own battered stick before getting onto his feet to look at the newer one properly. “This, Jack..this is a- ”

“A Bauer Nexus Geo, I know, Brock. I  _ did _ buy it.”

“Yeah but this ain’t the one you..” He shut his mouth, everything suddenly clicking into place. 

Shaking his head, Jack pushed it into his hands. “You’ve been talking about it the past few days, I figured I could get it for you. It’s better than playing terribly, the team doesn’t need that. If you don’t have a backup, take it.”

“What are ya, a trust fund kid?” Brock realized how rude that sounded when he finally heard himself say it. He frowned softly. “Sorry, sometimes I say shit- ”

“Yes, and it’s fine.” Jack said with a smirk.

Looking down at the stick, Brock stared in awe. “But really this..this is too special. I don’t think I can accept it, it’s jus too much.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s up to you, but think of it as an investment. Do you really want to play with a second rate stick, especially with our upcoming games before you can replace it? Besides, if you really feel terrible about it, just pay me back..but honestly I hope you don’t.”

This was true and Brock really hated thinking about how much importance he did put into the one he favored. “Shit. Yer right.” 

“I know I am. Now come on, you wanna break it in for a little bit before leaving?”

A grin spread across Brock’s face, clutching the stick tighter. “Fuck yeah I do.”

*****

A few days had passed and Brock got out of his car after double checking the address of the house he arrived at just off campus. Bucky had texted it to him after making Brock spill the beans on _why_ , considering he never bothered to come visit before. He really had no interest since his friend was always out meeting him somewhere, or dropping at his dorm. Most of his friend group was like that, and it would have stayed that way until Jack had mentioned he didn’t stay on campus, he stayed with Bucky in a shared house they rented out. 

He blew out a breath and got out of the car, picking up a pastry box from off the passenger seat that was wrapped tight with a red ribbon. Now that he was here, he thought it looked too flashy, maybe too romantic, not that he didn’t get why he would think that’s bad anyway it wasn’t like he was flirting with Jack or anything. He just wanted to say thanks about the Nexus Geo.

He approached the front and knew most of his nerd group (he wasn’t even joking, Jack lived with Barnes who was into science stuff, then there was Tony who while was a great goaltender was also in possession of a gigantic brain, Bruce Banner and a newly recruited freshman named Peter or something. All nerds from what he could sum up.) would be at some workshop or something so at least there was no pressure to share.

Brock knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later he noticed a doorbell beside a doorbell, one that was different and looked newly put in. Why were there two doorbells? He pressed both, just in case and waited again. He was about to press both of them again when suddenly the door swung open. 

Jack stood in front of him, a soft looking dark blue hoodie on over a pair of worn jeans. Most importantly was the detail on his face, he had a pair of black frames perched on his nose and a book in his hand; if Jack looked like that walking past him, he wouldn’t have noticed it was him. Brock’s mouth dropped open and all he could do was stand there. Holy fuck.

“Hi, Brock.” Jack said, dropping the book down at his side.

“Ya wear glasses.” Brock let out lamely, unsure of what else to say.

“Only for reading.” Jack offered, keeping a stoic expression across his face. Soon the corner of his mouth ticked up in what could almost be a smile. “Do you want to come in?”

Nodding dumbly, Jack moved aside to let him enter and close the door behind him. Brock followed the wiring of the second bell to see it was attached to a light located in a modestly sized living room that obviously lit up to grab Jack’s attention.

“What’s that?” Jack asked, gesturing to the box and Brock suddenly felt unsure before he thrust it out. “Uh, they’re cannoli’s from this bakery I’d probably kill fer. Figured I’d say thank ya by gettin’ ya hooked to ‘em too.”

This time Jack did smile outright, taking the box carefully before undoing the ribbon to lift the lid and peek in. “They look good, thank you..should we leave them in the kitchen..or..?”

It took a second for Brock to realize Jack was asking if they were for sharing or not and he immediately shook his head. “That’s up to ya, but they were fer you personally, no one elses.” 

Nodding to that, Jack tilted his head towards the stairs. “Want to come up?”

Brock really did, licking his lips as he nodded and soon he was following along before he watched Jack slip into a room at the end of the hall. 

The inside of Jack’s room was cozy, there was no other word for it. The place was small, but a palace compared to Brock’s dorm room. Bookshelves lined practically every square inch of one of the walls, and there was a desk shoved up under the back window with a flatscreen showing a desktop that was probably connected to the tower underneath. There were moleskine notebooks, hockey tape, a couple of pens and a signed hockey puck under a glass cover scattered about. A beat-up, old, brown fabric lined loveseat sat at the corner near the door, and a giant, flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite the book shelves. It was pretty nice.

Jack set his book down on the desk and Brock took a peek at the title, though he found it was in a different language he didn’t recognise. 

“So, do you want to sit?”

Brock was confused as he turned to look back at Jack and then it occurred to him he was probably waiting to see if Brock was just dropping by or hanging out. “Oh..” He mumbled to himself, then shrugged. “Sure, if ya don’t mind.”

Shaking his head, Jack placed the box on his desk and then opened his drawer, a set of small paper plates in a clear plastic bag were retrieved and he pulled two out, putting a cannoli on each and handing one to Brock before walking over to settle on one end of it. “I don’t mind, I was only reading.”

Still looking around, Brock could see Jack was fairly neat and he was a little embarrassed at the thought of the scene reversing and how messy his dorm would have looked if Jack happened to drop in. “Yer place is nice, better than mine.”

“Brock..” Jack said again. He drew out the sound of his name carefully and Brock liked it.

“Yeah?” Brock asked, lingering on being distracted by the fact that he liked hearing Jack say his name. 

“Brock, you have to face me, I need to see your lips. I don’t have my aids in right now.” Jack explained, a level of amusement in his voice. 

“Shit.” Was all Brock could say as he adjusted his position on the small couch, shifting so his back was at the corner of it and turning to face Jack more naturally. He wasn’t normally this stupid, feeling his cheeks warm in embarrassment. He blamed it on how long he didn’t notice Jack for, aside from being on the team, who seemed to prefer it that way. “Sorry.”

He watched Jack take a bite of the cannoli, nodding in approval as he chewed thoughtfully. “It’s good.”

“Of course it is.” Brock retorted, taking a bite of his own. After a few seconds of watching Jack, he looked back around the room before returning to see Jack finishing off the dessert. “Did ya move in ‘ere right away or were ya stayin’ in the dorms?”

He couldn’t imagine walking through or past one of the buildings only to have missed Jack being there for a small time frame. It seemed too disappointing to consider. 

“Bucky arranged this room for me. I was supposed to start in a dorm room, but coach Coulson was checking out some places for me, but then I guess he asked Bucky or mentioned it. The rest is history.” 

Brock spoke before he could think about what he was saying, “That’s crazy, after Clint and Bucky took ya under their wing I kind of didn’t think about there bein’ a real reason. As long as the new guy was getting acquainted and I didn’t need to teach ya shit, I didn’t mind. It was also preseason anyway.” 

“Real reason?” Jack repeated. 

Fuck. Maybe Brock shouldn’t have said it like that, but around Jack he kinda didn’t know what he was going to say before it fell out of his mouth he found. “It’s like yer jus you, I shoulda seen it, but yer hair covered them hearin’ aids so for like three weeks..I guess I didn’t.” Brock trailed off, dropping his gaze down. 

“I didn’t catch that, Brock. I need to be able to see your face.” 

Brock snapped his head up. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

Jack shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry, it takes time to get used to.” Brock nodded again, careful not to drop his gaze from Jack’s. It was a bit  _ intense _ though, like this. Aside from on the ice, Brock didn’t really know too much about him. “Okay..” Jack continued. “Does it really matter that much to you? I mean, now that you know better?”

Brock searched for words but he couldn’t find exactly what he wanted to say. 

“Jus different, I woulda liked to know from the start I guess.” He finally admitted, smoothing his palms out against his jeans. 

Jack nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Well you know now, right? You don’t have to worry about me not wearing them during games, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No!” Brock cried out and Jack raised a brow curiously at him. “I jus, it makes me look like an asshole if ya thought that, I ‘ate that shit.”

“Okay, well it’s all cleared up now.” Jack said after a minute, and he reached to the table for the remote. “I was going to watch Alien, maybe order some pizza for dinner. Would you like to stay?” 

Brock hated scary movies, even ones that Bucky assured him weren’t really scary like apparently Alien was, but he’s lied to him more than a couple times with that statement.

“Yes.” He found himself saying, without any hesitation. 

_ What?  _

“Okay, great.” Jack said before finishing off his cannoli. He took his and Brock’s empty paper plates to set them on the little table before them and then began scrolling through titles of a menu once the TV came on. “I hope you don’t mind subtitles.” 

Apparently for Jack, Brock did not mind subtitles one bit. He settled back against the couch and watched the whole damned movie without hating it once. They sat together in silence until the end, and Brock only  _ kind of _ flinched at a few scenes, feeling Jack’s eyes on him even at the minute instances that he did it but didn’t say a word. 

When it was over Jack got off the couch mumbling about the pizza flyer for Nick’s pizzeria being somewhere around his desk. It was about the same time that all of Jack’s other housemates came back, or at least it sounded like all of them. Bucky was nowhere to be seen and it suddenly made Brock panic, Tony was fine but Tony would also make this all a big thing. He made a show of holding up his phone when Jack finally found the flyer and pointed towards the door. 

“Uh, I forgot I ‘ad to meet up with a friend of mine for some notes so..raincheck?”

Jack stared dumbly at him before quickly nodding. “Sure, have a goodnight, Brock.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt like he had to go so hastily, but he did, giving a quick wave to a blur of people at the door before he was in his car and heading back to his dorm room. 

*****

After his cannoli visit and Brock’s first ever viewing of Alien, Brock couldn’t stop thinking about Jack. It was disconcerting, especially since they were at hockey practices together. 

For the next three nights he always saw him on the ice and in the locker room, sometimes it was only for when coach Coulson pulled out his whiteboard and showed them a play he wanted to try out, broke it down in bits and pieces so they could analyse it and learn it to seriously try it out, but usually Brock already knew the plays since they would be passed through him for suggestions and ideas. It was nice to be thought of, be treated as a real leader especially since Coulson didn’t have to do that. Unfortunately though, since he knew them, it kept his brain from being distracted from thinking about Jack only a few bodies away from him, gaze firmly set on the whiteboard, his head doing a barely there nod here or there as he ingested all the information, a gloved hand propped over his hockey stick. He looked..good like that. It really sucked.

It only got worse when he had to play with him, assist him, or vice versa, because Brock had forgotten how in sync Rollins was with him despite their lack of getting to know one another prior, they just clicked like it was a default setting for them and while it was unreal it was great.

_ Fucking Jack. _

Except, not really. Jack was calm, earnest, and distractingly fascinating. Brock glanced at the clock on the wall by the scoreboard. It was almost eight and he was grateful. Practice was almost over for the night, and then they had a day off, a break from Jack.

Later that night, up in his dorm room alone, an idea hit Brock so hard he couldn’t shake it. He slammed closed his books and texted Bucky as he pulled on his hoodie after changing into a pair of jeans. His phone chimed back and he nodded to himself, heading out the door and on his way to the main floor.

Brock sat down next to Bucky once he found where he sat in the dormitory common area, hanging out with Clint and Natasha. His friend looked up from the youtube video he was watching, a bit startled. “You said you were busy.”

“Well, sorta lied. Teach me Sign language?” Brock asked, hoping Bucky ignored the lying part. Technically he  _ was _ busy, he had a test to deal with but the sign language idea popped into this head and he couldn’t get it to fuck off.

After Jack made all the effort to get him a new hockey stick so he wouldn’t be hampered, the least he could do was communicate better with the guy.

It felt like telling Jack his dirty little secrets would have been easier.

Could he have just asked Jack to teach him? Sure but then where would be the fun in that?

“Hey!” Clint broke in. “What about me? Why aren’t you asking  _ me _ to teach you?”

“Because ya got the attention span of a goldfish sometimes, Barton, that’s why.” Brock countered and Natasha nodded to her boyfriend when he looked at her, exasperated.

“Sure.” Bucky said, his smile slowly slipping into a smirk. “Any particular reason?”

“Well..” Brock sighed. “Jus don’t tell Jack. Any of ya, please.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow but agreed, as did Clint and Natasha. Brock could see they had a lot of questions before those nods, but he trusted them enough to keep their word.

*****

On Friday Brock propped himself against the wall across from some art history class he wouldn’t be caught dead in, waiting for Jack to come out..or where he  _ hoped _ he came out from. He didn't even know what he would say, but he was going to say something. Soon students began to mill out and no one really paid him any mind, a few more minutes passed and finally Jack filed out, his textbook tucked under his arm as his free hand tucked the black pair of glasses into his pocket before he seemed to be fiddling with his hearing aid that Brock was finally used to constantly seeing.

When Jack finally looked up, Brock still didn’t know what to say, but Jack only gave him a surprised smile, breaking through the stream of bodies to approach him. “Hi, Brock. What are you doing here?”

“I was about five minutes from goin’ to check if you were at yer ‘ouse instead, that’s what.” He couldn’t help complain before realizing it probably sounded really weird.

Jack smirked at him. “Are you trying to keep tabs on me for something?” 

“Well- ” Brock stopped and blew out a rush of air, shaking his head because _fuck why not just get it out_. “I jus wanted to see ya I guess, I asked Bucky what class ya ‘ad right now so we could talk.”

The smirk dropped off of Jack’s face, surprise taking its place. “Oh. Unfortunately I have a class in ten minutes.” 

“Shit..” Brock said stupidly. He should have known that, right? “Okay, maybe..after practice?” 

Jack blinked, confusion causing his forehead to crinkle a little. “Sure, that’s a good idea.”

“Good.” He nodded, backtracking towards the exit doors. “Great. Hockey then, see ya later.”

Still holding that same look, like he had no idea what was happening. Jack only raised his hand awkwardly to wave it as Brock made a hasty getaway.

After hockey practice and a much needed shower after the way Thor full on collided into him and rammed him straight into the boards, Brock found Jack waiting out in the hallway while most of the team had already cleared out. He’d been pulling at a stray piece of stitching on his sweater before he glanced up. 

“Still feel like hanging out?”

Brock was still on the fence of what exactly he wanted but he nodded. “Yeah sure, hungry? We could eat at Nick’s if ya want.”

“Pick up?” Jack suggested instead. “I’d like to relax a little, take out my aids.”

“‘Course. How about this. I go grab us some pizza and meet you there, huh?”

“Sure, Brock. Thanks.” Jack hesitated for a second, before he finally turned and picked up his gear bag, heading towards the parking lot.

When Brock finally got to Jack’s place, he juggled a large pizza, breadsticks and a container of wings in one hand and pressed the special doorbell hoping no one else was home besides Jack since he really wasn’t in the mood to share their food.

Thankfully Jack  _ was _ the only person home, answering the door and stepping back with the door held open wider. “Come in.” 

Brock stepped inside and then stopped, standing still while Jack closed the door behind him, not sure what to do now. The door locked and Jack was back around in front of him again. 

“Here, let me take that.”

Allowing him to take the food, they made their way upstairs and into Jack’s bedroom, watching him set it down on his desk before he came back and closed his door, turning to face him again.

They were only a foot apart and from this close Brock could see how much the shade of green in Jack’s eyes reminded him of a forest he used to hike around in back during high school. He’d missed it since moving onto campus, but here now, it was nice to be reminded of it once more.

“What do you want Brock?” Jack asked him quietly, a little timid.

“I don’t know.” He answered back truthfully. “I jus liked hangin’ out with ya the other day.”

“I see.” Jack said. “I felt like maybe you didn’t, especially since you had been acting weird at our practices.”

“I was?” Brock asked, the genuine surprise across his face.

Frowning, Jack gave him a _look_. “I can read body language, dummy.”

“I guess you can, can’t ya?” Brock said with a laugh, shrugging helplessly. “Ya know, if I’m bein’ ‘onest, I don’t even like watchin’ horror movies but I liked watchin’ Alien with ya.”

“You could have fooled me, you were looking a little startled at times and then you left in a hurry.” Jack said, the side of his mouth quirking up. 

“Okay, yeah.” Brock shrugged, nervous for some reason. “That was my bad, I saw your roommates and knowing that one was Tony, who asks real weird shit sometimes and has no filter, I wasn’t in the mood to be grilled. I don’t know the others so I jus decided I should leave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so..” Brock stared into Jack’s eyes again, hating that he made him think he didn’t like spending time with him. “Do ya wanna watch another movie or somethin’?” 

Jack narrowed his eyes at him thoughtfully. Brock knew his face was flushing a little, but he kept his chin up, kept his face open. Finally Jack nodded. “Sure, but we should get the food out now before it gets cold. We can catch Aliens if you’re up for it.”

Brock smiled. “Yeah okay. Is Aliens more of that suspense horror shit?” 

“Really?” Jack muttered, staring at him a beat before he shook his head. “Wow, you really haven’t watched these movies, have you? Well, it’s more action orientated, probably up your alley some.” 

That was fine, it all was fine, and for some reason Brock was giddily happy to settle into the corner of the ugly brown couch as Jack retrieved large paper plates out of his desk drawer this time and doled out the food before setting up the movie. 

Apparently this time the alien was on a colonizing planet and there were marines or something involved. He wasn’t exactly sure but he did like action. Now that it was his second attempt at watching a movie with Jack, Brock paid more attention to the story instead of worrying something was going to jump out and scare him like the face huggers did previously. There was something different about actually knowing what happened before, the background information from the salvage team prior to the aliens hitting this colony in this one, and how Ripley was feeling about being out of the fire only to get caught back up in it. Also, it was really fucking adorable how Jack muttered some of the lines along with the movie next to him and how he had a soft spot for Hudson.  _ Cute. _

Two and a half hours later it was over and Brock suddenly realized it was almost midnight. Fuck, he had work in the morning at seven. He yawned and stretched, turning directly to face Jack as he clicked the TV off and turned to look back at Brock. 

“What did you think?” 

“It was good, kind of like this one better than the first one.” Brock admitted. Jack nodded sagely at him, looking thoughtful and Brock laughed. “What? Is it really a big deal which one I like more?”

“Not really.” Jack said. “Many prefer this one to the first, but I think both have great appeal separately for different reasons. Besides, I was just asking so I had an idea of what you would like or wouldn’t like for next time.” 

“Oh.” Brock said, surprised. “Really?” 

Jack nodded again to him, pulling himself up to clean the empty wings container and breadsticks bag. There were two slices left in the pizza box and Brock waved them off for Jack to decide on what to do with them. He felt so full and content and he didn’t want to go back to his dorm room right then despite a curfew; he was just so comfortable sitting here next to Jack. Brock wondered if Jack felt the same, or if he just considered him just a teammate he got along with.

“I can hear you thinking from over here.” Jack said dryly. “Spit it out.” 

He looked down for a minute, then back up towards Jack, gathering what he wanted to say. “Is it ‘ard, the lip readin’? Because I feel like I should be doin’ somethin’ to..I don’t know, meet ya ‘alfway?” 

Jack eyed him. “Is that what you really wanted to ask me?” 

Brock nodded. “Yeah, I was jus thinkin’ that I feel really comfortable around ya. I wanted it to work the other way around too, that ya feel comfortable jus as much.” 

Jack only stared at him, looking a little out of place and uncomfortable. Fuck, maybe Brock had messed things up again.

But then Jack approached the couch and sat down right next to him. He was so close that Brock could smell the faint scent of the soap Jack preferred to use, watching him stare intently at his lips before flickering his gaze back up.

“Yes, reading lips can be really difficult. It helps that you’re so expressive, even when you aren’t trying to be.” Jack’s lips quirked again. “My hearing aids help a lot too..” He hesitated a moment before he added. “But I don’t catch every word that you say.” 

Brock nodded, a little distracted by how close Jack was to him right now. “Alright. Is there somethin’ else I can do?” 

Jack held his hand out, palm up. “Give me your phone.” Confused but going along with it, Brock pulled out his cellphone and handed it over after he unlocked it. “Your phone is about to die.” 

Brock could only shrug as Jack gave him a roll of his eyes. He watched as Jack began typing into his phone before it was quickly offered back to him before picking up his own phone from off the small table. Brock’s almost immediately chimed, indicating a text, and he saw that Jack had saved his number in his.

**Jack:** _If it’s really important that I know what you want to say, it’s easier to just text me what it is._

**Brock:** _ Okay. _

**Jack:** _And when we watch movies you can talk to me this way too._

Relief swept through Brock as he stared at his phone a few seconds before responding.

**Brock:** _ Yeah? So you wanna keep doing this? _

**Jack:** _Yeah of course, it’s a series. Come over Sunday afternoon?_

**Brock:** _ I work Sundays and got some stuff to do, practice for a test and shit like that. If I don’t keep my grades up, I’ll get kicked off the team. How about Wednesday?  _

**Jack:** _That works._

Brock smiled at his phone just before Jack reminded him where he was.

“You know..I’m right here, you can look up and smile at me instead.” 

And Brock did, that was until a large yawn took over and he forgot his body was still a little achy from Thor’s massive body check into the boards.

Jack stood up, tucking his phone and pulling Brock up too. “Go back to your dorm, Brock. You need sleep.” 

They made it almost to the door before Brock turned around and stopped. He wanted something, but he didn’t know what exactly he wanted. He looked up at Jack’s lips for a moment and he froze, opening his mouth though no words were actually moving to come out. But before he could even try anything Jack reached up and pressed Brock’s mouth closed.

Brock froze. Jack shook his head, but left his thumb against Brock’s upper lip for a moment longer before pulling away. “Go back, Brock. Don’t forget to charge your phone either.” 

He nodded, unsure of what just happened. He ducked out the door, headed down the stairs, and exited the front door still feeling the heat of Jack’s touch against his lips.

*****

On Saturday, Brock kept his phone charging in the back while he worked his shift for the next eight hours. At lunch he finally got the chance to check through it again, opening up his texts with Jack from the night before. He lingered in thought a moment before finally giving in.

**Brock:** _ Hey _

Resting his phone face up, Brock focused on unwrapping one of the turkey and cheese sandwiches he’d swiped from the front display, convincing himself Jack would be too busy to get back to him immediately. He should have known by now Jack wasn’t exactly someone he could predict though.

**Jack:** _ Hey back.  _

Brock lingered at the words on his screen. There were a million things he wanted to talk to Jack about, things he wanted to know, find out..but he also didn’t want to seem like a creep either. He wondered if Jack was curious about him too, licking his lips nervously before he picked his phone up again to type.

**Brock:** _ Wanna do a question game, like truth for truth? _

**Jack:** _ Sure. _

**Brock:** _ So besides hockey, classes and watching movies, what else do you do? _

**Jack:** _ I game. _

Interest piqued, Brock was already glad he asked.

**Brock:** _What games do you play?_

**Jack:** _ Mostly horror stuff. Generally I look for indie stuff, but sometimes I play high end titles. I’ll play other stuff in between that hits my mood though. Currently delving into Puppet Combo. _

**Brock:** _ What game is that? _

**Jack:** _ Not a game. He’s a guy that makes 80’s style horror games, they’re really good. _

**Brock:** _Sounds interesting._

**Jack:** _ Coming from you? Doubtful, but yeah they are. And you? What do you do besides hockey, classes and watching movies with me? I don’t even know where you work. _

**Brock:** _ I’m a barista at a coffee shop. _

**Jack:** _ No fucking way. You hate most people. _

Panicking a little, part of Brock wanted to tell him which one exactly, but then the other part of him didn’t want Jack to see how stupid he looked if for some weird reason he actually showed up.

**Brock:** _I am._

**Jack:** _ Amazing. _

Before Brock knew it, his break was over and he let Jack know, turning his phone off and pocketing it. For some reason the day felt different, like it had more weight to it. He was sure it was just his head doing something weird, but he could admit to how easy he found getting back to the front was, like there was a little more spring in his step than usual.

*****

On Sunday, one of the other baristas was out sick, so Brock was stuck covering their four hours on top of his five. It sucked when he had plans to get back to his dorm and relax a little before the week started all over again, but money was money. Normally he left at five, but since he had to cover closing, he had an hour to kill and he was too lazy to drive back to campus and then return. Instead he tucked himself in a comfortable corner in the breakroom and pulled out his phone. 

**Brock:** _Hey Jack?_

**Jack:** _ You know you don’t have to say hey Jack right? You can just text me, I’ll reply if I’m there. _

**Brock:** _Ok_

**Jack:** _ Hi Brock. _

**Brock:** _Questions?_

**Jack:** _ Shoot. _

**Brock:** _Do you have any friends?_

**Jack:** _ What the fuck Brock. _

Wincing, Brock groaned, dropping his phone in his lap to press his hands to his face. “Why m’I like this? What the fuck was that?”

**Brock:** _Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I only have about two friends, the rest are part of the team or friends of my friends._

**Brock:** _You already know I don’t usually like people._

**Jack:** _ Yes I have friends. I’m disabled, not a loser.  _

**Brock:** _I know, I said I was sorry. What are they like?_

**Jack:** _ Bucky you already know. Bruce is pretty chill, we do a lot of book discussion stuff. He knows ASL so it’s nice. There’s Wanda too, in my art history class. _

**Brock:** _Oh so wait, you got two friends and a girlfriend?_

**Jack:** _ Just three friends. _

**Brock:** _Oh._

**Jack:** _ Yeah? _

**Brock:** _We both have Bucky, he’s an asshole we know this but he’s pretty cool too, I guess. Then there’s Natasha. She’s perfect, well rounded, I think she can murder people in her sleep._

**Jack:** _ Is Natasha your girlfriend? _

**Brock:** _No, she’s dating Clint._

**Jack:** _ Okay. _

He stared at the phone for a long moment, feeling an odd tension before he typed again.

**Brock:** _Ok_

*****

On Monday Brock’s nightmares woke him up with a start. They didn’t happen as much anymore, but when they did, they were pretty bad. Usually he could call Bucky or Natasha, but it was almost four in the morning and he didn’t want to disrupt their sleep because of his need to talk to someone. Slowly as he peered over to Grant’s bunk across from him, the bed unmade and empty because his roommate had gone to visit someone he knew that was sick. He lingered on it with a frown before Jack came to mind and figured it couldn’t hurt to check. 

**Brock:** _Hey, you up?_

It took less than two minutes for his phone to chime at him and Brock couldn’t help the smile appear across his face.

**Jack:** _ Uh, maybe? Depends I guess what you mean by that. _

Confused, Brock stared at the message he sent Jack, only for his sleep deprived mind to slowly put two and two together. Oh.  _ Oh. _

**Brock:** _Shit, I meant are you awake? I had a nightmare, I just needed to talk to someone, see if anyone was up._

**Jack:** _ Oh. Okay. Then yeah, I’m awake. _

He didn’t even care why Jack was awake, only feeling relief that he was.

**Jack:** _ Truth for truth? _

**Brock:** _K_

**Jack:** _ What was your nightmare about? _

**Brock:** _My pops._

**Jack:** _ Ah. Your turn.  _

**Brock:** _What are you afraid of?_

**Jack:** _ Idiots who text me in the middle of the night.  _

**Brock:** _:(_

**Jack:** _ That was a joke. _

**Brock:** _:)_

**Jack:** _ Heights..and opening up to people sometimes. _

**Brock:** _Oh._

**Jack:** _ Do you like the stars? _

Glancing out his window, he never really thought about them. They were just things in the sky to him. It looked neat right then though, longer nights giving him the chance to still see faint glimmers of small white specs in the inky blackness. They reminded him of something familiar that he’d seen before.

**Brock:** _I never really thought about them, weirdly nice in some kinda odd interesting way._

It sank in that they reminded him of the freckles he’d seen on Jack’s back when they would shower next to each other. They were faint, barely there but he saw them. 

**Brock:** _They’re like your freckles._

It was immediate, the way Brock cringed at himself. “You fuckin’ idiot.”

**Jack:** _ What? _

**Brock:** _I don't know why I said that, ignore me. I’m half awake, sorry._

There was a long delay on Jack’s side and Brock began to chew at the corner of his bottom lip in worry. Maybe Jack thought he was a creep now, he fucking deserved it if he did and there was no one to blame but himself for it. He lingered a couple more minutes before he audibly sighed. Jack had left him on read and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Tossing the phone next to his pillow, he pulled his blanket up to his chin in an attempt at forcing himself to try to get back to sleep so he wouldn’t be stuck dwelling on it.

He was closing his eyes just as his phone lit up again, happily chiming an alert to him.

**Jack:** _I guess if you look at freckles, you would think of the stars. Mine are pretty faded at the moment, but I suppose in a few months they’re going to be pretty prominent and then they’d make more sense if you like stuff like that._

Brock could only stare. He wasn’t sure what Jack was implying, was he inviting him to look better than? Should he be even thinking Jack was telling him to stare at his back in the shower again? It was way too early in the AM to break down the text  _ and _ use his brain power at full capacity. All he could do was lay there frozen, rereading the text over and over again.

**Jack:** _ You’re quiet, are you good now? _

**Brock:** _Yeah, feeling sleepy again. Thanks for talking to me._

**Brock:** _Actually, can I ask my question?_

**Jack:** _ Yes. _

**Brock:** _Was my playability the only reason for the stick?_

**Jack:** _ No. _

“Huh.” He muttered out, thumbs hovering but he hesitated to type for more information.

**Jack:** _ Goodnight Brock.  _

Admitting defeat despite ignoring the way his heart was racing all of a sudden, Brock nodded to the screen.

**Brock:** _Night Jack._

*****

On Tuesday Brock had a couple of morning classes, then grabbed a late lunch with Natasha before hitting a big box store to grab a couple boxes of ramen noodles and water. He wanted it to be Wednesday already so he could see Jack. Natasha teased him mercilessly about it while they were out, but he didn’t even care, he just shook his head back at her in dismay. What else could he do anyway? Back at his dorm room, his fatigue from missing out on sleep kicked in, and he dropped his bags and waters by his bed before unceremoniously dropping against the bed covers to nap for a few hours. 

When he awoke, he stretched from the awkward angle his neck had ended up in and then pulled out his phone, sitting up quickly when he realized he’d missed a text from Jack an hour earlier.

**Jack:** _ Why barista? I know there’s other jobs around here. _

It was around five, Brock hoped he wasn’t busy.

**Brock:** _Hey Jack. Sorry I was sleeping_

**Jack:** _ Np _

**Brock:** _sorry_

**Jack:** _ Shut up, it's fine. _

**Brock:** _:)_

**Jack:** _ So, why barista? _

**Brock:** _Is this for truths?_

**Jack:** _ Sure. _

**Brock:** _To be honest? My roommate got me the job. He was leaving it for this other thing he got hired for but because there’s mostly girls there, they needed a couple of guys that looked tough I guess. Thor works there too part time._

**Brock:** _I actually don’t mind it, I have fun picking out the creeps so I can make em feel uncomfortable so they leave on late shifts. Why?_

**Jack:** _ Like I said before, you and people usually don’t mix, but that’s honorable and like you said before, money is money. _

**Brock:** _Yeah, I’m just as shocked as you are that I tolerate it._

**Jack:** _ Your turn. _

**Brock:** _Why did you say you only game? You’re clearly doing other things besides hockey to keep fit and online games aren’t it._

**Jack:** _ A few reasons actually. It was suggested I use gaming as just an easy hobby for after I’d recovered from my car accident. Simple repetitive finger motions were exercising my hand for me, it even helped with my memory a little. _

**Brock:** _That’s actually pretty cool._

**Jack:** _ Yeah. I enjoy it, I like scary games and so I kept doing it even after using it as a tool for rehab. _

**Brock:** _It’s cool you found something out of it._

**Jack:** _ Hey I gotta go, the guys are doing a trivia game thing with Pepper’s sorority sisters and it’s starting soon. I would have bowed out but I promised Bruce I’d be there. Are you still coming over tomorrow? _

**Brock:** _Yeah, if the invite’s still good_

**Jack:** _ Good. It is. _

**Brock:** _:)_

*****

On Wednesday Brock didn’t bother to press the little doorbell button as he usually did for Jack, instead sending him a text that he’d arrived. The door unlocked and was pulled open, Brock breaking out in a grin. He held up another bakery box in his hand and Jack took it, Brock’s other hand occupied with two large take-out coffee cups. 

Jack smiled as he stepped back from the door, and Brock could see he had his hearing aids in tonight. “Hey.” 

“Hey back.” Brock said, feeling a bit flushed with something but ignoring it. “The bakery was closin’ so they didn’t have any cannoli’s left but I lucked out with the four budino’s they- ”

He stopped fidgeting with the box tape with his free hand when he felt Jack just standing there and looked up to see him staring at him in confusion. 

“What?” Jack asked, his voice even. 

“Budino.” Brock said again, slower. Jack shook his head at him and pressed his lips together in a line. 

“Do ya not like ‘em?” Brock asked, feeling stupid. He should have texted Jack and asked him if he’d had them before instead of assuming things.

Jack shook his head again. “No, I don’t know what you said and- ” He paused, gesturing for Brock to come in before he turned to close the door behind him. Looking embarrassed and annoyed, Jack sighed out in evident frustration. “I don’t know what you said and I didn’t want to ask you to repeat it again..” 

“Oh..” Brock said, and then, louder. “Oh!” He scrambled to rest the coffees on the side table before turning back to Jack, crinkling his forehead as he concentrated; raising one hand, Brock carefully fingersigned the letters:  _ B-U-D-I-N-O _

Jack’s face had gone completely blank as he stared back at him. Brock dropped his hand back down, feeling his ears heating up almost immediately. God he probably looked so stupid in front of Jack. 

“M- ” Brock started to say, but Jack put the box next to the coffees and took two steps towards him, stopping his words in his throat as he stilled.

Jack reached a hand out, hesitant at first before it rested at Brock’s shoulder, faintly brushing along the side of his neck before they stopped at the nape. Brock thought that hand might be the only thing keeping his own knees from buckling. 

Green eyes flicked down to Brock’s lips and back up to his eyes before he said, so gently that Brock would hear the words echo in his head forever: “Can I kiss you?” 

Something clicked into place in Brock’s chest and he nodded dumbly. “‘Course. I’ve wanted to kiss ya too, fer a while I think..” 

When Jack moved in towards him, Brock leaned up to meet him. Jack’s lips were soon pressed to his and Brock sighed into it, his mouth opening just a little as Jack captured his bottom lip. Fingers were brushing upwards into the back of his hair causing a slight shiver while Jack swept his tongue hungrily against Brock’s and stole a small moan out of his throat as his own fingers curled tight around the front of Jack’s soft, washworn t-shirt, but then just as quickly as it started, it was over. 

Jack pulled back, dropping his hand from Brock’s hair. “You learned ASL for me.” 

Brock nodded, not sure he could speak yet and really, what was he going to say at that moment?

“You really are multifaceted, you know that?” Jack murmured, continuing to stare at him. 

Brock frowned, feeling a bit dazed. “I don’t know what that means.” 

Both sides of Jack’s mouth quirked up at that. “And I still don’t know what  _ budino  _ is.” 

Laughing a little, Brock ran his hand through his hair, still thinking about Jack’s mouth on his. “It’s uh, sorta like a rich Italian custard..thing.” 

“Custard..thing?” Jack repeated.

“Yeah.” Brock winced. “It’s a translation thing, it could be a puddin’ too and I feel like they could be two different things, yanno?” It suddenly sank in what he  _ could _ have said and swore. “I shoulda just said that instead huh?”

Jack shook his head. “No, I asked. I wanted to know what the exact word was.” He stepped back towards him and Brock’s breath caught once more. “Besides, it led us here..” 

Leaning in close but pausing just before their lips met again, Jack’s eyes met Brock’s in question and he was nodding before he even realized it was a question of permission and Jack kissed him again. It was gentle, and too sweet for what Brock wanted more of but it was nice too, he couldn’t argue. 

They headed upstairs back to Jack’s room with their things and dropped down onto the loveseat, Jack sitting a bit closer to him than usual but avoiding the invasion of his space. Brock watched as he rested the white bakery box onto his lap, the dessert glasses inside knocking together lightly and as the lid was lifted, Jack’s brows rose in surprise to them awaiting him. 

“Two are chocolate and two are salted caramel.” Brock quickly explained, pretty sure Jack could figure out the chocolate looking one with the whipped cream on top and dark shavings, but the more golden orange colored one could have been mistaken for butterscotch maybe, the flakes of sea salt shimmering under the light.

“They look really decadent.” Jack complimented. “Budino?” He said carefully as he fingerspelled each letter out.  _ B-U-D-I-N-O. _

“Yeah, ya got it.” Brock encouraged, trying to tamp down the warmth settling in his chest. “Should we ‘ave one each? It’s been awhile since I did. I remember when I could knock back three of these, I was fuckin’ depressed about this stupid break up I ‘ad a year ago.”

Giving him an odd look, Jack eventually rolled his eyes and handed the box over. “Be right back, those deserve actual spoons not plastic ones.”

When they got everything sorted out, they chose chocolate but it felt like Jack was taking fifty years to examine the whole exterior of the dessert glass before finally he sank his spoon into it and produced a scoop of it out to try. He took one last cautious examination of it on his spoon before putting it in his mouth and taking a moment to let it all sink in. Brock waited patiently in anticipation, already a couple bites in because there was no way he’d say no to budino and watched Jack savor. Weirdly, it looked erotic, he had no idea why though. 

Eventually though, Jack nodded in approval, and leaned back against the couch to turn the movie menu on. “I should make you something. I can make some decent racuchy, stuff them with cinnamon and sugar tossed slices of apples. The guys like them.”

Brock smiled, feeling his ears burn. “Ya don’t gotta- ”

“You learned Sign language for me.” Jack reminded him.

“Yeah, but I wanted to and it ain’t much, not yet at least.”

“Don’t act so modest, it’s stupid when you do it because I know you like compliments.” 

Brock laughed, shaking his head. “What? I can’t be from time to time?”

Jack flipped through the menu, not looking over at him. “No, not here, at least not right now. It just makes you look like an idiot since you know learning ASL is a big thing to do.” 

“Yeah well, I’m  _ yer _ idiot, ain’t I?”

“Stop it.” Jack warned, but the corner of his mouth was turned upward and it told Brock he didn’t want him to stop at all.

Aliens 3 was different, but Brock really didn’t mind, he was actually into it. He realized he didn’t entirely hate watching horror movies, he just absolutely preferred to watch them with Jack, everyone else’s company was garbage. Jack was more about setting up a positive atmosphere and making sure it was an experience Brock would be taking in instead of chickening out. He warned him at bits that may be too much or have some kind of tell that would distract him from the incoming jump he might have accidentally walked into otherwise. All of his other friends proved they only wanted to see him be scared of something, and that was just fucking rude.

Jack’s hand crept towards his during the first twenty minutes of the film, until they finally tangled their fingers together. It was something Brock had never thought he wanted to do in general, but now that he was with Jack, he didn’t want to ever let go. Every so often Jack would rub the tip of his thumb across Brock’s knuckles and it sent shivers up his spine, trying his best not to react to it outwardly. At some point they both sat against each other, side to side, and with their legs stretched out before them. Brock was keenly aware that one of his ankles had tucked itself under Jack’s right leg while his other foot’s heel lightly sat against Jack’s ankle, ultimately keeping it trapped with him.

When the movie credits began to roll, Jack clicked the television screen off and they sat quietly, plunged into the darkness with only someone’s patio deck light shining in from the window. Jack’s hand still holding his.

In the privacy of their shared darkness, Brock felt bold enough to ask permission over what he’d wanted to do all week as they’d started getting more and more familiar with each other. He turned his head, shifting so his body was fully facing Jack who mirrored his actions but refused to let go of his hand, the light hit Brock’s face in hopefully the right way enough so that if Jack couldn’t pick up words, he had his lips to fall back on and if worse came to worse, their phones. Holding his breath he raised his free hand towards Jack’s face, expecting him to flinch maybe just a little when fingers got a little too close to his scar.

“You can..if you want to.” Jack stated calmly, his green eyes watching him intently and for once tonight, Brock felt completely exposed and Jack all too easily fell into a role of predator with that unwavering gaze.

Brock nodded, moving his fingers to the very pale, faint scars at Jack’s neck, long healed but lingering in memory. There was a rough burn of road rash peeking under the neck of his t-shirt, and despite seeing it a few times in the locker room, here it felt different and all too new. 

When he raised his eyes again he realized Jack wasn’t looking down to watch him, he was instead watching Brock’s face intently. Brock let out a breath before he lifted his other hand, pressing it along the side of Jack’s face, fingers delicately trailing along the most prominent scar he had, at least that was visible. It was intimate, intense and paralyzing. 

“Okay?” He asked, when his voice found him again. 

“You’re fine.” Jack assured, leaning his head closer to make a point. “Trust me.”

It was a gesture Brock couldn’t help himself to, laced with two words that felt heavier than Jack could know. Jack Rollins already trusted him, had to the moment they were thrust together in a team environment and was running on blind faith that Brock had his back and the other way around. He did it without a moment of hesitation and while it should have been so damn clear to Brock the second they hit the ice, it only came to him just now, leaving himself in complete surprise.

He reached up with his free hand to cup Jack’s face just before they shared another kiss that felt like it was loaded with a million promises that neither of them had to say. But then again, that was what it was for them, this one specific moment they could hold forever.

*****

After that, their random movie get-togethers became set for Saturdays and was a weekly occurrence where they spent time curled up on Jack’s loveseat, working their way through the rest of the Alien franchise before moving onto Lord of the Rings. 

During those times they mapped out each other’s bodies and slowly pushed at carefully set boundaries while mutually agreeing on taking it slow. Usually it was after the movie, but sometimes before, sometimes during, and the day Brock found out Jack had permanently changed his Saturday roommate plans to hang out instead of just _lucking out_ , he stayed all night in Jack’s bed for the first time..not that they did anything further than kisses and exploration, but it was something.

After that, on most nights when Brock didn’t have to work late, he found himself sleeping over at Jack’s. It was especially nice when they had practice, late nights laying together talking about hockey should have been weird with any other guy he dated, but with Jack it was as natural as breathing. It made sleeping easier, and his nightmares even seemed to go away.

In between movie nights, classes, hockey and work, Brock studied harder on learning ASL- though he kept Jack in the dark for the time being because he wanted to surprise him.

It was during their overtime game where Jack scored a hat trick and won them the overtime goal where Brock finally got to show his boyfriend what he’d learned so far. Avoiding the stray hale of hats flying out from the stands and onto the rink, he signed something on their way off the ice, something that Clint happened to catch. Brock would have laughed at the way his friend’s eyes widened but he’d been too distracted with Jack skating into the boards after his brain registered the string of what Brock said.

They barely made it through the door at Jack’s place, thankful that everyone else had gone to dinner to celebrate a win while they’d messaged they’d be late, leaving an off chance they might join the group later. Instead, his boyfriend crowded up behind him while Brock could barely contain his amusement as he tried to get Jack’s key in the door. Jack all but tackled him onto the bed when Brock surprised him with some more smooth talking he learned via his hands by seamlessly signing what he wanted Jack to do to him that night.

And really, that was his aim when he decided on the big reveal. To be able to talk dirty to Jack in fluent American Sign Language since..why not? He did learn a few basic words, but with how Jack was reacting with the dirty ones, it was worth all the effort he opted for them.

They never made it to the game celebration dinner that night, or even out of bed. Not that anyone was actually surprised about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Renee by SALES


End file.
